


As You Are

by Hustling_Rube93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Feelings, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustling_Rube93/pseuds/Hustling_Rube93
Summary: She just stood there, still, letting the water wash over her, like she was scrubbing away all the hurt from the last week, leaving her cleansed and...if not completely whole, then at least a little less broken. It felt...so fucking good, but she still breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar red telephone box swung open, and the person she’d been waiting for stepped out onto the puddle strewn street.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	As You Are

**Author's Note:**

> So a light, little angsty thing I thought of after seeing a picture of HBC with wet hair on Instagram. Obviously I had to write it down and totally neglect The World We Knew...
> 
> ...which probably won’t be updated until next weekend now XD 
> 
> I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy! 
> 
> Rube <3

The heavens hammered down as though they meant to beat the entire city into the pavement. 

The few people that braved the torrent passed in frantic chaos, all of them desperate to get out of the driving rain - all except the lone figure in black that waited across the street. 

She just stood there, still, letting the water wash over her, like she was scrubbing away all the hurt from the last week, leaving her cleansed and...if not completely whole, then at least a little less broken. It felt...so fucking good, but she still breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar red telephone box swung open, and the person she’d been waiting for stepped out onto the puddle strewn street. 

Her breath caught in her throat, and she took half a step forwards out of instinct, before she caught herself, and stopped. 

“What is it?” Hermione demanded, frazzled and frantic as she hurried across the road towards her. “What’s wrong? How long have you been standing there? It’s bloody pissing down, Bella!”

“I don’t control the weather,” Bellatrix huffed. 

“Why didn’t you just come into the office?” Hermione asked, shifting her umbrella to cover them both. “We could’ve talked there. You’re absolutely soaked!”

Bellatrix scowled, her eyes resting a little too long on the younger woman’s lips as she said, “Because I refuse to set foot in that sodding building.”

“I’m in there five days a week,” Hermione reasoned. “It’s not that bad.”

“If you’d been tried before the Wizengamot there then I can assure you, you’d think twice about stepping foot inside it again.”

Hermione shrugged, and sighed, “Fair enough.”

“So...” Bellatrix shoved her hands in her pockets, toed the pavement with her boot. “How’re you?”

Hermione shook her head, incredulous. “Your letter said - please don’t tell me - bloody hell, Bella! I thought it was an emergency! I ran out in the middle of an important meeting to—“

“I - I wanted to apologise,” Bellatrix admitted, and stared over Hermione’s shoulder at the Ministry building. “My behaviour was abysmal on Saturday. I overreacted, and—“

Well, overreacted had to be the understatement of the bloody century. She still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, still wasn’t sure how their usual beer and curry night had gone to shit. But she supposed it had something to do with the fact that Hermione had planted a great big yummy one on her when they should’ve been watching _Stars in Their Eyes_ and Bellatrix had reacted by slapping her across the face. 

“—and I’m sorry.”

“An outright apology from Bellatrix Black?” Hermione scoffed, though there was no real bite to her words. “Will wonders ever cease?”

“It’s a new life skill I’m working on,” Bellatrix muttered. “Apparently, I have a blind spot in certain social situations, and need to learn to admit when I’m wrong. Personally, I think I’m spending too much time with my fucking shrink because I’m starting to agree with her.”

“It’s a slippery slope,” Hermione agreed, offering her a small smile. “First you're going once a week, and then it's three times a week, and then the next thing you know, you're starting every sentence with, ‘My shrink says’.”

“My shrink says thats a very common fear.”

Hermione laughed, and it was something that Bellatrix just couldn't avoid savoring, eyes remaining fixated on Hermione’s lips. 

“Anyway, I really am sorry,” Bellatrix sighed, the apology not tasting nearly as bitter as she expected it to. “I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“I accept your apology.” Hermione smiled a little, reaching up to stroke the side of her face where Bellatrix was sure must’ve been a rather impressive handprint. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just...helped myself.”

Bellatrix smiled a little. “Why do you put up with me?”

“Why did you run away after I kissed you?” Hermione retorted sadly. 

Bellatrix didn’t respond right away. She couldn’t. Didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to put the darkness inside herself into words. Didn’t know how to explain to Hermione that she sucked the goodness out of everything she touched. 

Hermione just looked at her expectantly, reached up to card her fingers through her dripping wet hair. Bellatrix couldn’t help but lean into her touch, and she waited a beat, two beats, three, then lifted her chin ever so slightly - a move that would’ve looked haughty had it not been for the way her lip quivered - and in a voice so quiet, said, “I panicked, alright. I thought - I thought you were playing games with me—“

Hermione looked like she’d just been slapped. 

“I’ve been turning this over and over in my head,” Bellatrix grimaced. “And I can’t figure out why you’d do that. Why you’d want to kiss me. Unless you were toying with me...”

“What!” Hermione gasped. “Is that really what you think? After everything we’ve been through?”

Bellatrix swallowed hard. “I just can’t accept that you’d like me...like that.”

“But - but I do,” Hermione insisted. She stepped closer, close enough that Bellatrix could see the mascara lining her amber eyes, and she couldn’t help it; her gaze dropped to Hermione’s lips again. 

Bellatrix quickly took a step back, and she could’ve cursed herself as soon as she did so because she could feel herself throwing walls up in a hurry, and she had to stop herself before she made them so tall and so rigid that she caged herself in completely. But wasn’t that what she did best? Wasn’t that what her therapist had been constantly trying - and failing - to discourage for the last three years? 

She couldn’t help it, pushing people away was her default. And no matter how many coping mechanisms her therapist threw at her, it didn’t change the fact that Bellatrix Black was a broken woman, poorly put back together by her own hand. Her life had been filled with too much loss and pain for her to be anything else. That’s why people always left; her parents, her sisters, her husband, even Tom fucking Riddle - they’d all left. In one way or another. So she’d came to the conclusion that it was better if she sabotaged new relationships early, sped things up a little. After all, if everyone was going to leave her anyway, the sooner the better. Because once they were out of her life, she could finally say: “I knew they wouldn't stick around. No one ever does.”

But with Hermione, it was different.

With Hermione, it was perfect. 

With Hermione, she could see the rest of her life before her eyes and that scared her more than anything. Never before had she wanted someone so desperately to see what lay underneath her armour. Never before had she wanted someone to get close enough to see her as she was, her raw and defenceless interior. 

There was something about Hermione she was scared to lose, because she knew she wouldn’t find it in anyone else, and she wanted to keep Hermione as close as possible before she eventually left too.

“Things have changed between us, Bella,” Hermione finally said, tentatively reaching out to squeeze Bellatrix’s hand. “Don’t you feel it too?”

Their eyes met and Bellatrix felt her throat tighten, feeling the pull between them as they stood there. It was quite a moment; a pressing feeling that enveloped her mind and tickled her heart. 

“Of course I do!” Bellatrix snapped, wrenching her hand away. “But Hermione, you must understand...I’m not...” She rubbed a shaking hand down her face. “I’m not good at this.”

“You are.” Hermione didn’t even hesitate. 

Bellatrix shook her head, took a step back, once, then twice, until she left the shelter of Hermione’s umbrella and rain hammered down on her once more. It marked the distance between them, widening as the seconds ticked by, but it was all it took to remind Bellatrix why acting on any of the tingly little feelings she got whenever she was near Hermione would be foolish. 

“You don’t know me, Hermione. You think you do. But you don’t. I’ve done things. Horrible things. Why do you think I spend most of my time with a fucking shrink?”

“I do know you. I’ve known you for three years.” Hermione stepped closer, shielding Bellatrix with her umbrella again, and cupped her cheek, gently turning her face so they were looking at each other. “I know that you’re incredible. I know that - no, listen - I know that you’re strong. Beautiful. Stubborn. Gods, you’re stubborn.”

Bellatrix’s chin trembled, she’d never felt so agonised. “You fought for my acquittal after the War despite - despite everything I did to you. You persuaded me to go to therapy. You - you made me believe that I was worth something. We’ve become...friends, but you’ll leave eventually, everyone does, and normally that wouldn’t bother me, but I like what we have, and I don’t want to fuck that up by admitting that...that I...“

Hermione touched her arm, and if Bellatrix wasn’t mistaken, the young witch almost sounded excited when she asked, “That you fancy me?”

Bellatrix laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Well, if you want to put it that way...”

“What other way is there to put it?”

“I suppose you’re right then,” Bellatrix conceded with a halfhearted shrug. “I like you. Very much. Perhaps more than I should.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you fancy me.”

“Hermione—“

“Bella.”

Bellatrix scowled. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Just say it.” Hermione was grinning from ear to ear. “Please.”

“Fine!” Bellatrix growled, and she looked away again. Gods, how embarrassing. “I bloody well fancy you, alright! Even though that sounds completely ridiculous at my age.”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all,” Hermione insisted. “I fancy you too.”

Bellatrix’s eyebrows shot up. “I - you do?”

“Of course I bloody do! Why do you think I kissed you the other day?”

For a moment Bellatrix was too stunned to say anything, before she felt the blush creep across her cheeks, and she ducked her head. Hermione probably found her awkwardness charming because she could see the young witch beaming from beneath her lashes, and her blush deepened. But for just a moment, it felt right, and uncomplicated, and Bellatrix reached for the warmth that bloomed in her chest, tried to wrap her hands around that feeling, pressing it into her heart like a flower between the pages of a book. 

“I’m sorry I bolted,” Bellatrix eventually murmured. “Past experiences have taught me to assume the worst when something seems...too good to be true.“

“Nothing’s too good to be true, Bella. If something wonderful happens to you, then you should enjoy it,” Hermione said, looking her dead in the eyes, and Bellatrix felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Bellatrix reached between them, gently intertwining their fingers. “I can’t change for you,” she told her, voice small and rough with shame and self-loathing. “Even with all this therapy, I still feel...a little bit broken.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Hermione said. There was a clear, quiet anxiety shining in her amber eyes, and Bellatrix knew Hermione was being sincere. “I like you as you are, Bella. Your broken bits won’t change my feelings for you.”

“You must have something seriously wrong with you if you feel that way about me,” Bellatrix muttered, and the shattered expression on Hermione’s face made her feel all kinds of awful. “You think you know me because we’ve had a few joint sessions together? Because we sometimes spend the weekend drinking shitty Muggle beer and watching shitty Muggle telly? You don’t know half of the things I’ve done. You wouldn’t want this if you—“

“I would!” Hermione said firmly, and she reached out, gently tipped Bellatrix’s chin with her finger. 

“You shouldn’t,” Bellatrix whispered. 

Hermione stroked Bellatrix’s jaw, whispered back, “I do.”

Determined amber met anguished charcoal, and for a moment, the only sound was the pounding tattoo of rain against the umbrella, until Hermione fisted her hand in Bellatrix’s sodden coat, and said in a rush, “I’m so sorry...but I really need to do this.”

“Hermione—“ Bellatrix gasped, but whatever else she was going to say was swallowed by Hermione’s mouth, and she was silenced with a kiss. 

Hermione’s lips moved against hers, soft and firm and so, so good, and it lasted an eternal four heartbeats before they both pulled away. They stared at each other for a moment, looking into each other, and this time when Bellatrix’s hand came up, it wasn’t to strike her across the face, it was to press her palm against Hermione’s racing heart, and they both closed the gap again. 

Bellatrix made a soft sound, a helpless sort of gasp that had Hermione dropping her umbrella to the pavement so she could loop her arms around Bellatrix’s neck. The rain ran down their faces to where their lips met, soaking hair, wetting skin, chilling them with ecstasy, each of them tasting the cold drops, but instead of deterring them, it propelled them to new heights. And that was all it took, somehow, for their soft, sweet kisses to become hot and wet and without end as each of them gave up all illusions of mere friendship.

“Please don’t push me away again,” Hermione pleaded when they finally parted, breaths warm and ragged between them. “Please tell me that you feel the same way.”

Chest heaving, Bellatrix drank in Hermione’s words, searched her honeyed amber eyes for any kind of trickery, any hint that the young witch was still fucking with her. But there was nothing but the eyes of a beautiful woman who gazed back at her with nothing but honesty, hope and love - so much love that it honestly felt like a Crucio straight to her fucking heart. In the end, Bellatrix just pulled Hermione to her, held her tight, and Hermione stayed there, clinging to her desperately. 

And even as they stood there, completely soaked through, Bellatrix couldn’t help but think how everything suddenly felt so right, so safe and so complete. 

“I like you very much Bellatrix Black,” Hermione murmured, pressing a warm kiss against her ear.

Bellatrix’s felt her whole body tremble as she exhaled a shuddering breath. She wanted so desperately to believe that they could do this, that _she_ could do this. 

“I like you very much too, Hermione Granger,” Bellatrix replied hoarsely. “But are you willing to accept the fact that you - have feelings for a woman who’s done unspeakable things?”

"Listen", Hermione said, pulling back to capture Bellatrix’s face between her hands. "You’re still healing, we both are. But you should be proud of the person you’re becoming.” She leaned in and kissed her softly, and there was a desperation in the press of her lips that made Bellatrix tremble. “Let’s just see where this takes us, hm?”

Bellatrix maybe should’ve put an end to this madness. It was only going to end in heartache, especially because she knew how it was sure to end. 

But instead she found herself nodding, and then, in the middle of London in the pissing rain, Hermione kissed her again, and Bellatrix thought that maybe it could work, and maybe she was still a little bit broken, but maybe, just maybe, Hermione could be the one who would stay and keep all her pieces safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspo for the title came from the song As You Are by Daughtry <3


End file.
